We Won't Run
by excusemeb
Summary: Composed out of my compulsive need for Eric to be with Pam. Set post S4 E12. Clearly AU since that awful excuse for an Eric & Pam S5 preview was released. Rated for language. E/P.
1. Chapter 1

**Composed out of my compulsive need for Eric to be with Pam. Inspired by, and titled after, the song mentioned below. Set post S4E12. Clearly AU since that awful excuse for an Eric & Pam S5 preview was released.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

_Pages turning, lights are burning_

_See what you could not see_  
_It's plain as the day_  
_The night makes you pay_  
_For what was hidden underneath_

_Longing to leave_  
_But begging to feel that_  
_Something will make you stay_  
_Gotta believe that this all leads_  
_Somewhere we've never been_

_We won't run, we can fight_  
_All that keeps us up at night_  
_There is far to go now_  
_Let's not waste a minute more_  
_In denial_

_I always thought you knew yourself_  
_Better than anyone_  
_The season was lost_  
_And you started listening_  
_To everyone else_

_We're castin' this devil_  
_I've got the mettle_  
_The means to make things right_  
_Tired of the guilt_  
_Tired of being sorry_  
_Well, haven't we suffered enough?_

_We won't run, we can fight_  
_All that keeps us up at night_  
_There is far to go now_  
_Let's not waste a minute more_

_Of our lives_

"We Won't Run" by Sarah Blasko

* * *

Eric left Bill's manse not long after Bill dispatched Nan's soul via the True Death. He and the King had spoken briefly about what might be in store for them and decided it best to gather their respective progeny, then regroup at the mansion prior to going to ground. There was safety in numbers, Eric couldn't deny that, and while he was not too keen on the idea of relying on Bill for protection, even for a day, it would be far more prudent to keep the King close at hand while he assessed the situation with the AVL and the Authority, and laid out his own plan of action.

Besides, Eric Northman was never one to run and hide, and he would not start now; he took to the sky.

He didn't see Pam's car parked outside of Fangtasia, but that didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't there. Unlike him she couldn't fly, but she could still get where she needed to go without wheels and she could do it quickly.

The bar appeared to be closed down for the evening, even the staff parking lot was empty. He was surprised that he didn't see Ginger's car still there since he assumed that Pam would be drowning her sorrows in the half empty vessel that was their most loyal human employee as per usual.

He ventured inside for a quick peek around.

Pam was probably pouting on the couch in his office, anxious to apologize to him again for her rash behavior and get back to their comfortable association.

Or not.


	2. Chapter 2

His office was an absolute disaster.

Pictures were hanging askew, a few were even smashed, their pieces lay on the office floor alongside what appeared to be the splintered remnants of one of the smaller wooden chairs that sat in the office. The paperwork that had littered his desk was strewn about the office as well.

Glancing down at the wreckage, he noticed among it an ornate conch shell. He recalled Pam's delight when she found the treasure one particularly memorable evening spent together in the warm waters off the coast of their mutually preferred, ultra private hideaway.

When they'd last left Villa Plantation House*****for Louisiana just prior to the Great Revelation, Pam had surprised him by placing the delicate keepsake in their new home in Shreveport shortly after they'd settled in. She explained to him that she'd brought it along for good luck, a notion he'd found silly but endearing at the time, though he never said as much to avoid hurting her feelings.

So, he'd brought it to Fangtasia and placed it on his desk once he started devoting so many of his waking hours to his new project.

It served to remind him of her when she wasn't around, or more often, of how sweet she could be when she wanted to (if only to him), especially since the stress they'd both endured over the last couple of years had brought her petulant tendencies to the surface more often than not.

It was a source of peace and joy for the memories it evoked, a token of steadfast devotion, and unconditional love and trust from his dear child.

Now it was nothing more than shattered dreams.

Its pale pink, perfectly smooth interior was harshly exposed since its stunning, variegated creamy white and sandy-colored outer portions had been brutally destroyed in the fray. This discovery caused his mouth to turn down involuntarily as memories of innumerable, delightful nights spent on the island with his lovely progeny flashed across his mind's eye, and he felt a sinking feeling, akin to the tide being pulled out to sea, wash through him.

Turning to leave, he stopped as he caught the familiar scent of blood: her blood. _His_blood.

It wasn't a lot, much to his relief, as he took note of the few drops that were splashed on the floor near the door.

Then his undead heart sank at the realization that she must have been crying.

The painful twinge in the center of his chest ignited with the flame of guilt.

He could count on one hand the number of times he had witnessed her cry. She didn't even cry when that wretched sadist, the Magister, had tortured her relentlessly for days. The most recent instances had been that seemingly endless time they spent as prisoners in their own bar just after he had killed Russell Edgington's lover, and the morning he walked in the sunlight for the first time in over a thousand years. Both instances were due to the fact that she feared losing him forever after the gravity of the situation at hand had become truly apparent; it was not the loss of her own life she feared, but his.

Now he, Eric, her Maker, the one who had promised to be her protector over their many years spent both together and apart, he had made her cry by his own actions when he chose a human over her, over them. Again. A human who, by her own admission, did not - _would not _- love him in return.

He had made his lovely, loyal child cry because he had threatened to kill her over that same human.

He knew then that Pam was afraid of losing him again, losing him forever.

He knew all too well what that final loss felt like, and he did not relish the fact that he was subjecting his own blood to such suffering.

What the _f*ck_was he thinking?

What had he _done_?

* * *

***I have another story in the works detailing Eric and Pam's adventures at their fangtastic, sprawling Caribbean villa. In the meantime, if you'd like to see what it looks like you should visit mustique (dash) island (dot) com and search for Plantation House. It's A. MA. ZING. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Instantly sobered of the rage that had been building up within while he surveyed the swath of destruction rendered by his maddened progeny, Eric rushed from Fangtasia and headed for home. Halfway there he considered summoning Pam, but thought better of it as he didn't want to add insult to injury.

Plus, there was something else that had been nagging at him for hours now: she disobeyed his direct order when she fired that weapon earlier in the evening. What the hell was that about? How did she do that? He hoped it was just due to the fact that her finger had already pulled the trigger before he forbid her actions. Though he'd never admit it aloud, he was a bit gun shy (no pun intended) about commanding her again.

Eric didn't allow himself to hesitate when his feet hit the porch, he walked into the house and headed straight for the lower level, knowing that Pam would be down there preparing to die for the day.

* * *

She knew she was going to have to face him sooner or later.

Pam could sense Eric as he neared the house. It was always easier to tell he was near when he traveled via his preferred method, and she was grateful for that brief warning this evening.

Pam finished pulling on her pale pink satin chemise, then sat on the edge of the bed to finish brushing her hair. She was thankful that she had at least beat him to the house and was able to clean up from her dramatic episode of earlier before he arrived.

She couldn't hide her feelings from him, but she did not want him to see her tears.

She'd more than happily leave all displays of weakness, especially the ugly crying, to the little fairy princess.

Pam was still miffed at herself for allowing Ginger to witness her disturbing emotional breakdown, but she suppressed any further irritation by telling herself that her secret was just a glamour away; although, she had yet to glamour the memory from Ginger's mind and she wasn't entirely sure why. Any chink in the seamless armor that was Pam's relationship with her Maker ought to be wiped from existence, but she just couldn't bring herself to erase that knowledge from her pet just yet. Pam blamed her reluctance on the fact that she was so exhausted from the day's - no, the past week's - worth of madness she'd endured, which was, as always, all for him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Thanks for wrapping things up at the bar tonight." Eric stated plainly, his voice strangely devoid of emotion as he strode into Pam's room.

She didn't stop brushing her hair and was careful to keep her face as unreadable as possible.

She'd left his office a wreck on purpose, because while she didn't want him to witness her actually crying, she _did_want him to understand that he had pissed her off (again) with his stupid, selfish choices. If she had to deal with the aftermath of his flippant behaviors as of late, then it was only fair she share the wealth.

_So_, Eric thought, _she's just going to sit there preening and ignore me? Not even offer an apology for trashing my damn office? _He could feel his patience quickly waning.

"Get dressed. Now. We have to leave. We're going to stay at Bill's today," he barked succinctly, leaving no room for argument, or so he thought.

"No. F*ck you, and f*ck King Bill," she deadpanned as she stared up at him, "You two can have your little sleepover sans Pam. I'm already dressed for bed and I'm not leaving."

Eric stood there rigidly, willing his mouth not to fall agape at her blatant disregard for his authority, as she rattled on, "I'm completely exhausted from dealing with those g*ddamn witches and that horrid f*cking curse that I was subjected to up until this evening when, apparently, someone _finally _killed that b*tch, promptly releasing me from that nightmare."

She didn't miss a beat before continuing, her voice dripping with disdain, "And I'm _really _glad that you've been restored to your former, commanding self, Eric, but I'm spent. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you this evening. Goodnight."

"SHUT UP, PAM!" Eric roared at her, all of his compassion and concern from earlier melted away by her acrid tirade. "This is not up for discussion. You will get up and come with me right this instant, or I will _make _you."

Pam's hand stopped combing. Her eyebrow shot up and her eyes bored into Eric's as she ground out flatly, "Is that an order?"

"I will not tolerate further insolence from you, child!"

_What the hell_, she thought, _he did threaten to kill me earlier, so why not help the process along?_

She stood up with vampire speed and flung her hairbrush across the room, somehow resisting the urge to aim it at her Maker, and goaded,

"Or _what_, Eric? You'll _actually_ kill me this time?

You know what?

Do me a favor and don't give me any warning this time, just vamp up and _go for it_."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I have a LOT of pent up anger toward this entire E/P relationship fail that is being perpetuated on the show (and in the books - not that this matters here, since this story is posted under TB, not SVM, but I digress...).  
Basically, I find it absurd that Eric's "bond" with Sookie could overpower or be anywhere near as strong as the one he's spent over a century forging with his own progeny.  
So, just as a warning: no love is lost on SS in this story, in part because I don't care much for her character, but mostly because something needs to bear the brunt of my anguish and it might as well be her. :P Also, "Pam" is really upset (as well she should be :P) and it shows - I mean, she truly goes off on a rant.  
Anyway, I just thought it fair to warn y'all beforehand.  
**

* * *

Eric just stood there. If he wasn't already dead he probably would have died of shock right then and there.

Pam did not, would not, _could not_, stop there.

She continued her verbal assault, "Shouldn't you and your _liege _be looking after everyone's new favorite, making sure she doesn't stub a delicate toe, or worse yet, have anyone else fall into that precious Venus flytrap of a vagina she possesses?"

Eric's left hand reached up to lightly support his head, which was beginning to feel weary, and he closed his eyes briefly as he let out an exasperated sigh. Clearly, yelling at her didn't have the desired effect, so he tried a different approach.

Deciding to ignore Pam's jealous comments regarding Sookie, he said, "Pam, you are _mine_. I care very deeply about what happens to you. If any harm were to come to you, I would be devastated. Stop arguing with me. We can discuss all of this at length later, but right now we need to get to Bill's. Many things have transpired since we have been apart this evening, and we need to collaborate with the him if we are to survive the night."

Apparently, Pam couldn't be won over with reason either, and she shot back, "Did I miss somethin'? Since when are you and Queen Bill so damn tight? Am I in the f*ckin' Twilight Zone, Eric? Help me out here."

Highly annoyed, Eric blurted out, "Nan Flanagan is dead, and the AVL and the Authority have issued an order on all of our heads."

Silence. The air between them was palpable.

In spite of the severity of the situation, Pam slowly responded, "Eric, I'm finding it hard to care at this point," and her posture slackened.

"To be honest, I'm not sure why you're here. We do have a lot to talk about, but I don't fancy hashing it out with you in front of Compton and his Cheeto. I'd like to think that you have more self respect than that, I know I sure as hell do.

Speaking of self respect, I can't believe you find it necessary to ally yourself with him anyway. What, with your age and connections in high places, since when do you require anyone's help?"

"Pam, I've always stressed to you the importance of the golden rule of vampirism: keep your enemies close. Our cooperation with the king at this point in time is a prime example of that," Eric explained.

"I'm not going with you," she said resolutely, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin defiantly. "I don't want to, and honestly, after your callous display earlier tonight, your increasingly deluded sense of devotion and _caring_, I don't know why would you want me to."

She glared at him as she reminded him, "You looked me in the eye and told me to get out of your sight before you _killed _me, Eric. Do you have any recollection of that whatsoever?"

As the anguish within her boiled over at the memory of his threat, she continued vehemently, "Also, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop skirting around the issue at hand: you chose a human over you, me, _us_ - again!

Although, this time you chose a human over all vampires. Don't you see how _ridiculous_ that is? It sounds absolutely bat sh*t crazy when I think it, much less state it aloud.

You, Eric Northman, Viking vampire god, chose a _human _over yourself, your progeny, and your entire race!"

Pausing briefly to take an unnecessary breath, lowering her voice once again, Pam hissed, "I can barely stand to look at you right now. This entire situation makes me f*cking sick - it's utterly _disgusting_."

She forced herself to look away from him in order to regain control over her emotions.

He stared at his disappointed child and for the first time, maybe ever, felt the heavy weight of regret settle in.

Then Pam said, so softly that he almost didn't hear her, "I heard you tell her that you loved her. I heard you say it like you meant it." The pained look that crossed her face, coupled with the turbulent wave of agony that roiled through their bond, nearly brought Eric to his knees.


	6. Chapter 6

"Pam, I- You _know _that I..." Eric started, his voice tender.

"No! Don't, Eric," she snapped, looking up at him once again, anger replacing the angst marring her normally flawless features.

"Don't you _dare_ patronize me.

How _could _you? How could you do this?

You always taught me to hold what we have above everything else. You said that our dedication to one another, our bond, was the only truth. I've devoted myself to you completely since the moment you made me yours, and you've always protected me, you're my hero. What _happened_ to you?

What exactly did you expect to come of your little tryst? She's a _human_: a truculent, meddling, _mortal_ human.

So she can read other humans' minds, and she's about a half-cup fairy, which makes her taste a little better than most everyone else - so f*cking what?

She's not going to live forever, hell, I don't think she wants to. I mean, what fairy would give up the sun for an eternity of night?

She doesn't even love you in return, at least not the real you - her words, not mine! - and she certainly doesn't love you in the way that you claim to love her.

Worst of all, she's still in love with _Bill_. That fact alone speaks volumes to her character. I find it difficult to comprehend that someone as ancient and worldly as you, Eric, is so blinded by the stupidity and futility of this entire situation."

"I do agree with her Highness on one point, however, and that is your attraction - the mutual attraction," Pam rolled her eyes, released a disgusted sigh, and spit out, "_delusion _- is because of the blood. It's chemical, Eric. I can't believe that you, of all people, can't recognize that. Did you think that by giving her your blood, you'd be able to change her feelings toward Bill?

They fell in love with one another.

You can't just undo that."

Pam paused long enough for Eric to interject.

"She rejected us both," he said, expecting a reaction of relief from Pam. He did not receive one, so he continued, "She said that she made a decision to walk away with neither of us, and that we were not to pursue her any longer."

A quick sigh, a half-hearted smirk, and a disbelieving shake of her head preceded the rest of Pam's argument.

"You gave her your blood, Eric. _Our_ blood. In a thousand years, you've only seen fit to share yourself with very few - that you allowed to live anyway. She did not, _does not_, deserve it!"

"Eric, I love you. I always have and, unfortunately for me, I think I always will. I have loved you from the moment I met you more than a hundred years ago, and I will love you until the moment I die the true death. You are the best maker any vampire could ever hope for. You promised me that you would give me everything and anything I could ever dream of, and many more things that I could not even begin to imagine.

Well, congratulations, you have met and far exceeded those promises because you have managed to break my cold, dead heart.

That is something that never occurred to me to worry about because I know how much I love you, and you've told me countless times that you love me infinitely more than I love you because you _chose_ me, you made me...for you."


	7. Chapter 7

Eric was speechless. He felt so utterly powerless. Standing there listening to the pain he had inflicted upon the one who loved him unconditionally was like watching something burn in a windstorm without any hope of extinguishing the flames.

In an instant, Eric's mind took him back over a hundred years to the steep hillside that overlooked the cold, blue water below, which was, as was often the case in that particular part of the country, partially cloaked in a dense fog. The low-lying cloud bank that poured over the hills and across the straight in front of him reflected the bright, clear light offered by the full moon.

As he glided silently closer behind the tall, slender figure patiently awaiting his arrival at the edge of the cliff, he glanced up into the inky blackness of the clear night sky that was visible above the low fog over the water.

Jupiter and Venus shone brightly right next to one another in a display so dazzling that, had it still been active, his heart would have skipped a beat or two. Conjunction. That was the sterile term applied by the humans to this ethereal delight.

He regarded it as a good omen.

Tonight was the night that he would become Zeus to her Aphrodite: Eric, god of the sky, and Pamela, his stunning progeny, embodiment of love and beauty. They would rule the night together for eternity.

Once again, the scent of his blood brought him back to reality.


	8. Chapter 8

Pam continued, blood tears now pouring down her beautiful face, staining her porcelain cheeks, "You gave me a choice (_She remembered_, he thought. _Of course she did._), then you took my blood and gave me your own, just like Godric did for you nearly a millennium prior.

We share the same blood, Eric. We are one and the same. We are subject to each other's deepest emotions, emotions we aren't even fully aware of at times until one of us makes the other aware, which at times, can be rather convenient.

Although, I'll tell you when it's _not _convenient: when some spiteful, returned-from-the-grave-with-a-vendetta witch erases the love of your life's memories leaving him an empty shell of his former glorious self, and then casts a relentless, extremely painful, and utterly humiliating spell bereaving you of the gift of immortality bestowed upon you by said maker.

Then, to top it all off, you have to leave the care of your beloved to a flighty, demanding mortal, who goes and falls in lust with 'Diet Eric'***** because he's sweet, scared, clueless, and easily manipulated - in other words, the complete opposite of himself. F*ck, do you remember how she _dressed _you? But I digress."

"We haven't even been able to talk about any of this, Eric. I was so scared that I'd lost you forever. I was even more frightened when that witch cast the rotting spell on me because I thought that I'd fail you by dying before I was able to restore you. Even after you told me in that jail cell that you didn't want to remember your - _our_- life, I was determined to find a way to make you whole again."

"I've had a lot of time to ponder our life together before Sookie, or B.S., as I like to refer to it now, and I think that it wasn't very fair of you to talk about loving me 'forever' since, obviously, 'for now' would have been more accurate."

"When Bill called me to tell me that you were back, I was practically giddy with relief. However, as soon as I reached his porch and heard the conversation you were having with her, then interrupting as you professed your love for her, and having you all but ignore me in her presence, I knew nothing would ever be the same between us."

Now pushed even further to the brink of sanity by her exhaustive diatribe, and frustrated beyond belief with herself for losing the grip on her emotions as bloody tears spilled uncontrollably down her face, onto her favorite nightgown, and all over the plush white rug on the floor at the foot of her bed, Pam's fangs protracted as she challenged her maker,

"_Damn you_, Eric! If you're going to treat me as though I don't exist, then make it so!"

* * *

*** The credit for the hilarious term, "Diet Eric," belongs to a very clever writer on one of my favorite sites, Den of Geek dot com. I find their TB reviews quite entertaining. :D**


	9. Chapter 9

Eric's shocked expression did nothing to quell Pam's anger. He looked at his enraged progeny with disbelief, her fangs bared, every fiber of her being daring him to strike her.

He did not.

Instead, Eric instantly closed the gap separating their bodies, and he quickly but gently clasped his large hands on either side of her distraught yet still ethereally lovely face, holding her still so that he could look into her eyes, giving her no other choice but to return his gaze.

"Pam, min älskling, please forgive me. _Please_. I understand now what you've endured for me - no, for _us_- and I am sorry. I wish I could have spared you the suffering; I would have gladly taken on that burden. I want you to know how proud I am of everything you did. I need you more than you will ever know, and I am sorry that I have neglected our love. I have been careless. I am begging for your forgiveness. Please give me the chance to fix what I've broken. I love you."

Pam involuntarily made a small sound - her maker had never spoken so frankly, and she had never seen him beg. Not once. Not ever. Instantly humbled and without hesitation, she said quietly, "I forgive you, Eric."

With his hands still cradling her face, and their eyes staring unblinkingly into one another's, Eric leaned down slowly and kissed his beloved. His hands moved along her cheeks and into her thick, golden tresses as they kissed. He delighted in her familiar feel and scent. It was wonderfully intoxicating: her blood, _his _blood. Only with her did he truly feel at peace, at home.

Unable to resist, Pam responded forcefully, causing him to lose control. He dropped his arms, loosening his hands from her hair, and wrapped her up in his strong arms as he sat back onto her bed, pulling her closer still.

* * *

**Translation (courtesy of Google Translate): min älskling = my darling**


	10. Chapter 10

Outside of Chez Northman, that evening in northern Louisiana proved uneventful, despite earlier indications that things could go awry at any moment.

After trying to reach him by phone a few times, Bill decided that Eric was fully capable of defending himself and his progeny, after all, he had managed to stay alive for the past thousand years without his help. He decided not to worry himself too much over Eric's absence as he and Jessica prepared to go to ground. _Besides_, Bill thought grimly, _if the Authority decides we should all die, then that's what will probably happen - not that I plan on going down without a fight_, he told himself, stealing a glance at Jessica who beamed brightly back at him from her cot across the room.

It wasn't just his own life hanging in the balance: he was a maker, and as such, he felt compelled to do whatever it took to be her hero.

* * *

Several hours later, while the sun was making its climb into the late morning sky outside, Eric and Pam were still in one another's arms, each silently willing the moment to last indefinitely.

Pam lie cradled against Eric's left side, closest to his still heart, staring up at him, drinking in the lines of his body and face, and after a long while, finally settled the wandering gaze of her pale blue eyes upon his own. Suddenly, she lifted her head up off his shoulder and brought her hand up to his ear, frowning slightly as she said, "The bleeds."

"Worth every second," he responded with a smile. "Rest now, min kära. It's not likely that we'll get two nights in a row of peace and quiet."

He paused briefly, then added, "I almost regret not allowing you to do so earlier." The gleam in his eye, coupled with his thousand-watt grin, belied his claim.

She used her hand, the one still resting against his cheek, to pull him to her and kiss him softly. Then she settled comfortably back into his embrace and was soon dead to the world.

Eric continued to watch her for a while, but just before he succumbed to the pull of long overdue, much-needed rest, he leaned closer to her and kissed her forehead as he whispered, "Sov gott vackra barn."

* * *

**Translations (courtesy of Google Translate): min kära = my dear; ****  
****"sov gott vackra barn" = sleep well beautiful child**


End file.
